


Catching Up

by fictorium



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will and Diane, a late-night chat. (references Will/Alicia, Alicia/Kalinda)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [london_fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/london_fan/gifts).



When you really trust someone, you have to be okay with not understanding some things. W/D friendship, alluding to W/A.

 

She pours him a drink, and it’s a generous one.

 

“I’m sorry,” Diane admits, in the soft glow of a reading lamp. It’s the only light at this end of the floor. “I should have noticed sooner.”

 

“Noticed what?” Will hedges, weighing the heavy crystal in his palm for a moment.

 

“That she broke your heart,” Diane says, raising her own glass in a silent toast.

 

Will loosens his tie, and takes a drink.

 

“Sometimes, you have to pick your battles, you know?” He admits, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Only so many ways to lose in a year.”

 

“Spoken like a true Cubs’ fan,” Diane mocks, but she’s gentle about it. Her heels land on the floor with two dulled thumps, and she mirrors his pose with her own killer legs. “I can’t say I ever understood the appeal.”

 

“I’d be worried if you did,” Will replies. “I think if you threw your hat in the ring I’d lose.”

 

“I don’t think Mrs Florrick is that adventurous,” Diane says, watching him for a reaction.

 

“Don’t tell Kalinda that,” Will warns. “I think a little part of her is living in hope.”

 

“Will Gardner,” Diane sighs. “You’re a gossip and a bitch.”

 

“And a fifteen year-old girl, apparently,” Will grumbles, draining his glass. “It wasn’t such a big deal. Couple of drinks, a shower, an hour at the batting cages. I’m over it.”

 

“Right,” Diane says, her heavy ring clinking against the glass. “I mean, you’d have to be by now. Rumor has it a reunion is on the cards. We might lose Alicia to Springfield yet.”

 

“Nah,” Will says, but he knows he doesn’t sound convincing. “If she was going back it would have been... well, before now. And what about you? No case-interrupting suitors I need to worry about?”

 

She laughs at that, deep and melodic and familiar. 

 

“Suitors? Are we back in medieval times?” Diane snorts. “But since you ask, all is quiet. Bankruptcy doesn’t make the city’s most successful men flock, exactly.”

 

“Successful isn’t always your benchmark. No cowboys?” Will teases. 

 

“Not a one,” Diane admits. “You’ll tell me, next time?”

 

Will contemplates his empty glass, and the twinkling lights of Chicago’s skyline through the window. It may not be home, exactly, but at least he fits here.

 

“I don’t think there’s gonna be a next time,” he confesses, and it’s harder to finally hear out loud than it is to say. “How many missed chances do you get before you realize the universe is trying to tell you something?”

 

“Not to mention we don’t exactly need the heat from a pissed off State’s Attorney,” Diane reminds him.

 

“Or Governor,” Will sighs.

 

“You think he’ll win?” Diane asks, the familiar glint in her eye that only politics ever gives her. She’d make a hell of a Senator, Will knows, and that’s probably why she’s never run. The people who should almost never do, not in the face of all the guys doing it for the wrong reasons.

 

“Would you bet against Eli in a dogfight?” Will says, and he knows he’s won the point. Diane shrugs in something like agreement. “Anyway, I should get going. Court in the morning.”

 

“There was a time that wouldn’t stop you going for another few hours,” Diane says, but she’s standing too, finding her discarded heels.

 

“I’m a new man,” Will says, and it doesn’t sound as hollow as it might. “You’re okay getting home?”

 

“Chivalrous to the last,” Diane says, but she’s smiling as she rounds the desk and lays a hand briefly on his back. “The next one will be lucky to have you, Will.”

 

“That’s what I tell them,” he says. “Or is that where I’m going wrong?”

 

Her laughter carries them down the hall towards the elevators, and Will finds himself feeling just a little better than he did before.


End file.
